


Gee My Life's a Funny Thing

by moonflowers



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy may be a mermaid but he's still an asshole, Couch Cuddles, Dustin is the best bro, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mer!Billy, Mermaid cliches ahoy, Steve Needs a Hug, The lab is back at its bullshit, bordering on crack, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-18 06:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14847915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflowers/pseuds/moonflowers
Summary: Steve finds a boy in the water.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from David Bowie's Young Americans.
> 
> FUN STORY this was meant to be all one big chapter but my laptop is at death's door and deleted it all, so I scraped together what I had so I could post something today as planned. Just gotta rewrite the whole second half now ugh.

The problem was, that for all the unpleasantness of the Upside Down and demodogs and the horrors that came with it, without it, things felt kind of dull. Don't get him wrong, he preferred not living with the risk of having his face bitten clean off by monsters from another dimension, but getting back to normal was just... hard. Not that 'normal' really meant the same as it did before. Once it was hanging out by his pool with Tommy and Carol, smoking behind the math building and hooking up with whatever girl took his fancy at that weekend's party. Then it was with Nance, studying together, dinner with her parents and sneaking back through her bedroom window after they'd gone to bed. And lately it'd meant ferrying a herd of kids around to each other's houses or the movies, and sitting alone at the quarry at ass o'clock in the morning to avoid his empty house. Alright, maybe that last part wasn't such a recent development as the rest. He liked it by the water though. It was quiet, no one to ask anything of him while he was up there; no "Steve are you okay?" no "Steve can you drive us to the arcade?" no "Steve did you skip breakfast again this morning?" 

"Shit," he tossed the small, flat stone he'd been fiddling with out into the water. It hit the surface, louder than he'd expected, and sent ripples out in every direction, round and wavering. It was fine. He'd be fine. It was Saturday and he didn't have school to worry about, although most days he wasn't sure if the distraction was a blessing or a curse. The morning was still and grey, the sky pale pinkish with dark water below, jagged rocks and trees stretching into the sky. Funny, he never used to be a morning person.

He was about to get up and head back to the car when a pebble hit the ground near his foot. Startled, he looked up and across the water, but it was still as eerily flat as ever, no sign of anything or anyone close by. Another hit his jeans, left a tiny dark smear of water to soak into the denim. His hand twitched, and he began to wish he hadn't left the bat in the trunk. He blinked, looked up again just in time for a third pebble to hit him square on the nose and bounce off. Another fell just short, landed in the water in front of him with a plop. When the ripples had faded, he looked up to see a man watching him - boy? he looked around Steve's age - half smiling, motionless with anticipation, waiting for him to make the next move. Which was pretty fucking wild, because yeah it was spring and things were starting to warm up, but also it was Hawkins, and it always clung to the chill a little longer than it should. 

"Uh, hey," Steve said - because what the fuck else was he s'posed to say? - and watched the boy watch him. "Aren't you cold? It's gotta be kind of freezing in there." He'd learnt that one the hard way, having jumped into the questionable water of the quarry in spring before it had really warmed up one too many times. The boy didn't say anything, just kept staring him down, too-blue eyes narrowed and brown blonde hair made dark with water, head tilted in consideration. 

"I don't want to tell you what to do or nothin' man, but maybe you should get out of the water?" Steve was getting sort of worried, despite the guy's obvious lack of concern; he knew how cold it could get in there. Still the boy didn't say anything, but his face set like he'd made a decision, and he ducked under the murky water. Steve blinked at the spot where he'd disappeared, barely a ripple left on the surface.

"Shit..." there was a moment where Steve had visions of himself having to drag an unconscious stranger out of the quarry and all the fucking questions it would raise, thought fleetingly of when they'd dredged what everyone had thought was Will Byers from the depths. But before he had the time to work up a decent amount of panic over it, the boy popped out of the water again, closer now, smiling at him big and sharp, wet hair dripping down his neck.

"You scared the crap out of me," Steve said, suddenly aware of how hard he was gripping at his own leg, and let go, "Jesus." The boy seemed supremely unconcerned about Steve's mental welfare though, just bobbed in the water, studied him like Steve was the weird one.

"You're not from Hawkins are you." Steve didn't recognise him, surely would have seen him, at school or at least just around town. He was the kind of guy you'd remember seeing, y'know? "You just moved here, or...?"

He shrugged, which yeah wasn't exactly an answer, but by that point Steve was relieved to be getting anything out of him at all. And was maybe just a little bit distracted by the width of this guy's shoulders; he looked like he did an awful lot of working out. The thought was a stray one and not completely new in nature, but he still wasn't really sure what to do with it, so tucked it away to poke at again later.

"Hey look, I've really got to get going. Do you want me to - "

He was interrupted by a splash as the boy tipped back a little, lifted his legs up in front of him and out of the water. Except there weren't legs. He didn't have legs, and whatever he did have looked an awful lot like - 

"That's a tail," Steve said, eyes fixed on said tail as he lowered it back into the water, where it worked lazily to keep the boy afloat, "you have a _tail."_

The boy rolled his eyes as if to say 'no shit,' and flicked water at him. Steve spluttered, but was mostly too busy staring at the boy's _fucking tail_ to be too bothered about the nasty quarry water on his face. It was a blue grey colour, sort of shimmery in the dull water, thick and made up of large, flat scales, topped off with fins milky and almost see-through in the murk. It didn't look great actually; pale in the way a plant looked when it was kept out of the sun, not the flashy green or orange like in the story books he'd had read to him as a kid. Not that he was fucking nitpicking about the quality of the mermaid he'd found in the quarry. Merman? _Fuck._

"But I don't - "

Steve floundered, not sure which of the hundred questions he had dashing about in his head to ask first, and even less sure which ones he'd even get an answer to. He was about two seconds away from freaking out, tried to fight back the panic by telling himself firmly he'd dealt with stranger things, and certainly more threatening things. The boy - he was still going to go with 'boy' for the time being, thinking too hard about what he actually might have been was likely to tip him over into a full blown meltdown - was looking pretty pleased with himself about the reaction he'd gotten. He was easier on the eyes than a demodog, that was for sure. But totally not the point. He took a breath, tried to narrow down the questions to the most important ones. 

"How did you get all the way out here?" There was no ocean for fuck knew how many miles, so that ruled that out. And he couldn't have always been up there; kids had been hanging out at the quarry through the summer since forever, and all kinds of people had been keeping an even closer eye on Hawkins the last couple of years. Someone would have noticed him already, if they'd been looking. 

He didn't get an answer - surprise fucking surprise - and was seriously considering just leaving again, let the boy be someone else's problem. God knew he had enough of his own already. But then he swam closer to the water's edge, reached to put his hands on the stones and muddy grit of the shore, started to pull himself out. His arms and chest were broad and thickened with muscle, taught and straining as he pulled himself up, water sliding off smooth skin. And then, oh yeah, the tail. The tail which, even as Steve watched, started to change colour, the texture shifted, shape melted away slowly and just sort... became legs? Right. Of course they did.

"Oh," Steve said, "I guess that's how you got here, huh." The boy was on his hands and newly present knees on the pebbly bank, breathing hard and shallow from the effort of changing. "You walked."

The boy looked up at him, hair curling in his eyes and lashes wetly clumped together, to grin, wide and pleased and all sharp teeth. His breathing evened out a little and he eased himself up until he was kneeling, and Steve's eye dropped to - yep, that was his junk. Great. For some reason it was that that did it. Everything so far he'd taken in his stride; finding some freaky guy in the water at the quarry, discovering he had a tail, and then realising he could change it into legs, oh yeah sure that was all fine. But catching an eyeful of the guy's dick, and oh no, suddenly things were too weird, and he started to feel close to the edge again. He was trying not to fall into a serious fucking panic - really, after the morning he'd had, he felt he was sort of entitled to one - when he realised the guy was pointing at Steve's car, just visible over the rocks, up the near vertical slope of the quarry. Shit.

"You want to come with me?" he said, incredulous.

The boy raised an eyebrow, looked at Steve as though it was perfectly obvious, and honestly Steve was getting pretty tired of this dick eyeballing him like he was an idiot.

"Y'know what, no. Uh uh, no fucking way," Steve said. "I can't just bring some fucking guy I found in the quarry back to my parent's house. I know fuck all about you..." But then it started to dawn on him that he didn't have much of a choice. If Steve didn't help him out, he wouldn't have put it past him to stubbornly wander into town or whatever to find help elsewhere, which would probably cause quite a stir, in his current state. Or he'd just stay down in the quarry, and sooner or later be found by some asshole from the lab or the police and get himself caught. Either way, it was incredibly likely he'd end up in the hands of someone who wished him more harm than good. And yeah, Steve knew fuck all about him, but he wouldn't wish that on him, on anyone, not after hearing snippets about El's childhood in the lab. "Fine. I just - fine." He sighed, regretted ever thinking his life was too dull. "Let's go." 

The boy looked delighted to have gotten his way, which might have been cute if Steve wasn't so mad about it. But he also looked a bit smug, like he'd known Steve was going to cave from the start. Douchebag. He was trying to get to his feet, but his thighs were tensed and shaking with the effort, and Steve realised that yeah, he maybe he hadn't had an awful lot of practice. Crap. Reluctantly, he reached out to help him up, only to get swatted away and levelled with a look more vicious than any they boy had sent his way so far, teeth bared, eyes bright and focused, like he was ready to fight him off no matter the cost.

"Hey, it's okay," Steve found himself speaking more softly, hands up in surrender, "I'm just going to help you up, man."

The stranger deflated a little, still glaring at him, and thought it over for a moment before reaching out a hand to Steve. He took it, slipped an arm around his shoulders to steady him and he helped pull him to his feet. His skin was cool under Steve's fingers, still wet, water seeping through Steve's shirt where the boy was plastered against his side. Great. 

"Okay," he huffed, the guy seemed a little steadier now, but leaning heavily on him. He smelt sort of chemical-ly, and like mud and grass from the quarry water. Steve adjusted his hold, felt him twitch at the movement. Jesus. "Come on."

The walk back up to the car seemed a long one. The boy was obviously not used to being on legs rather his tail - goddamn freaking tail - was breathing hard through his nose and clutching onto Steve, stumbling every so often and looking pissed that he had to rely on him to prop him up. It was even harder making their way up the steep not-really-a-path that Steve used to get down to the water, a skinny dirt track he guessed was used by small animals more than anything, sharp turns and loose stones and narrow as hell, and definitely not made for two well-sized teenage (Steve assumed) boys to walk along side by side. 

After what felt like an eternity climbing up the slope, they reached the beemer, and Steve left him leaning against the hood while he went to find him something to wear. Partly for his own sanity, and partly because driving through town with a naked dude up front with him was probably not a good idea for about twelve different reasons. He found a spare pair of gym shorts in the trunk, thank God, and handed them over.

"Put these on," Steve said, when he raised an eyebrow at him, "we can't go through town with your junk hanging out, big guy." Shit. He instantly regretted the way that sounded, but the boy didn't react to it, rolled his eyes but did as he was told, and let Steve help him into the passenger side without kicking up too much of a fuss. 

Once they were both in the car, Steve gave himself a second to catch his breath. The boy was looking around at the interior, touching the seats, the windows, the roof, all with a sort of alien curiosity. He could practically hear Dustin's voice in the back of head asking all kinds of questions about him - _for science, Steve, for science_ \- but to Steve, he mostly just seemed like any other boy. A maybe kinda messed up one with grumpy tendencies and sometimes a tail instead of legs, but still. A boy. He raised an arm to fiddle with the rear view mirror, and Steve noticed something he hadn't before. There were still mottled patches of scales up his legs and belly, a couple on his forearms and a few scattered sparsely around his neck, the same sickly blue grey as his tail. He wanted to touch, curious as to the how they'd feel - like a fish, or something completely different? Was that a weird thing to think? But then he'd bypassed weird a year and half ago, to be honest. But then he started pushing the buttons along the dash, fucking harder than necessary thanks very much, and Steve motioned for him to stop.

"Hey cut it out," he said, and received another scowl for his interference, "I'll show you how it works if you want, just - you don't have to press so hard, okay?"

~~~

Steve was still questioning his decision an hour later, as he leant against the kitchen counter and watched the _fucking mermaid_ work his way through the contents of his fridge. He thought he'd enjoyed the car ride over - Steve had been worried he'd freak out, considering the last and probably only time he'd been driven anywhere would have been by idiots from the lab. But if anything, he'd seemed part elated, and part irritated by Steve not driving fast enough for his taste. Steve had hustled him inside the front door as fast as he could, in case anyone spotted them and stopped to ask questions, and given him a quick tour of the house. He'd been as curious about it as he had with the car, ambling about the rooms, prodding at things that caught his interest and ignoring things that didn't. But once Steve had suggested they get something to eat, his attention hadn't shifted from the fridge freezer. Steve watched him work his way through the food with amusement, grimacing at things he didn't like and tossing them aside, demolishing things that took his fancy. He fucking lit up when he discovered ice cream, which was actually just a tiny bit cute, got through half the tub before Steve thought he should probably step in before he made himself sick. He had no fucking idea what mermaids ate, but he was pretty sure strawberry ice cream wasn't a staple part of their diet.

Real question was, what the hell was Steve going to do with him? He knew he was going to have to tell the others at some point, he didn't really have a choice. First off, he couldn't single-handedly hide some random dude at his house forever, tail or no tail. And the tail wasn't exactly something he could figure out single-handedly either. As much as he didn't want to admit it, and as nonthreatening as the boy looked with a smile on his face and strawberry ice cream smeared across his chin, given that he'd come from the lab he easily could've had something to do with the Upside Down. And that would be dangerous for more than just the two of them if the wrong person started sniffing around asking questions, found them out. It was a risk Steve probably shouldn't take. Perhaps he could try and talk to El about it first before telling anyone else - she might've known something about other shady shit the lab was up to, at least. Shit, his head was a mess, he didn't know what to think. But he did know he was still a bit soggy with quarry water where he'd helped him walk to the car, muddy where they'd stumbled a few times, grit clinging to his forearms and the knees of his jeans. 

"Hey," Steve said, and the boy paused in his excavation of the freezer to look at him in question, irritated by the interruption. "I'm going to go take a shower, okay? I'll be upstairs," he pointed lamely to the ceiling, "so just... come get me if you need anything." He waved Steve off and got back to emptying out the ice cube tray for whatever reason, so Steve guessed he was good to go.

Hindsight was a wonderful thing, and Steve probably should have been more specific when he'd told him to come get him if he needed anything. Because it turned out the guy both had absolutely no boundaries and took things very literally, and just let himself right into the bathroom while Steve was mid-shower.

"Jesus fuck!" Steve yelped when the other guy just strolled right up to the shower and stuck his arms under the spray. Reflexively, Steve's hands dropped to cover his junk, although given how unconcerned the boy had been about his own nudity earlier on, he doubted he was all that bothered. "What are you doing, man? Oh my God, you could have fucking knocked - " Did he even know what knocking was? It wasn't like they had doors underwater. Shit he was overthinking, which only left him all the more flustered. He shook his head to clear it. "Still dude, you can't just invite yourself in to some other guy's shower - are you even listening?"

Nope. He wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to Steve's bitching and hollering, just holding his hands under the hot spray, and sighing in contentment. It was then that Steve noticed the goosepimples on his skin, all over his upper arms and chest, nipples hard, and he fucking kicked himself for not thinking about it sooner. He'd been stewing away in the freezing quarry water for fuck knew how long, of course he was fucking cold. Just because he'd seemed happy enough strolling around in nothing but Steve's basketball shorts, didn't mean he couldn't feel it. 

"Shit, I didn't think," I pushed his dripping hair back out of his eyes, "are you cold?"

The other guy hummed absently and rubbed the warm water up his arms, and that was answer enough for Steve. He shut off the water and hopped out of the shower, threw a towel around his waist and started to run him a bath. It was barely half full before the boy caught on and apparently decided he didn't want to wait anymore. He tugged the shorts off - right at Steve's fucking eye level while he was bent over checking the water wasn't too hot, and what the hell had he done to deserve that? - and threw them aside to climb into the tub. Steve tried to ignore the way his face was getting all hot, and concentrated on how happy the other boy looked to be in the warm water. He looked brighter, almost. Steve couldn't think of a better word anyway. His hair was more gold and eyes more blue, little patches of scales glimmering, even more so as his legs melted back into a tail once they'd been submerged long enough in the water. Yeah no, Steve was never going to get used to that. His tail looked different this time too, more purple and the blue much brighter, richer and healthier than it had been in the quarry. More like the shit from the fairy stories.

"I guess the warm water's doing you some good, huh?" he said, wondering again what it would be like to run his fingers along the pale shimmery purple of the scales at the boy's waist. The quarry water was cold at the best of times, dank and brackish with whatever the fuck got dumped in it, and he supposed it made sense that the guy hadn't looked so hot after soaking in it for however long he’d been down there. "This, uh," he gestured along the length of his tail, "this is looking a lot better. S'nice."

He practically preened at the compliment, chin tilted up and mouth ticked in a smirk, chest puffed out and posturing. Steve snorted a laugh and flicked warm water at him, shutting off the tap before the tub overflowed. “Poser.” With the outraged look of a cat that'd stepped in a puddle, the boy flicked his tail fin across the surface, and drenched Steve all over again.

"Agh, you dick," he said, grinning, and wiped the water out of his eyes. The other guy smiled lazily back at him, reclined against the back of the tub. Steve met the intense, ocean blue of his eyes, and asked again, though by now he knew better than to expect an answer, "where the hell did you come from?"

The boy smiled in response, the soft look he'd been watching Steve with a moment ago gone, replaced by a sharp, biting grin as he replied, "California, asshole."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this has reminded me just how much sense mermaids don't make. I took how Billy works partly from Splash - as far as the tail in the water, legs out of the water thing goes. Which is appropriate, because I low key headcanon Billy's mom as looking like Daryl Hannah.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to rewrite this part THREE TIMES from memory and some shitty notes I wrote on the bus, and it never feels as good as the first time around, but hey.  
> Mermaid Billy would be so damn pretty, let me have my fun.

"You can _talk?"_ Steve said, gripping the side of the tub, mouth dropped open in shock. "You could talk this whole time?" And not only talk, but with a rough, deep voice that sounded like he smoked a pack a day and made Steve want to fling himself at something. Fortunately he was too mad to think too hard on that. The _complete asshole_ soaking in his bathtub just kept smiling slyly at him, lip curled in amusement. "Why didn't you?"

He shrugged, water splashing up the back of the tub and wetting the ends of his hair, making curl and drip onto his shoulders. "Fun."

"You dick," said Steve. "I was _this fucking close_ to getting you to write stuff down."

"I can't write," he once again looked at Steve like he was one crayon short of a pencil case, "I'm from the ocean dickhead, why would I need to write stuff down?"

"Unbelievable," Steve shook his head.

"And here I was thinking you people were supposed to be smart."

"I'm about this close to driving you back up to the quarry and dumping your sorry ass - wait," the first thing he'd said to him finally hit home, "you're from California?"

"Yeah."

"Then how the hell did you end up here?"

"That lab of yours," he said, good mood gone just like that, he frowned down at the water and wouldn't meet Steve's eye, "bastards must have known where to look. Caught me, shipped me over, kept me in that fucking tank. But I guess it wasn't all bad," he said, sourly, falsely bright, "s'where I learnt to talk."

"They taught you how to speak?" Steve said, confused. It seemed a little counteractive; from what he knew of the lab, a silent subject would probably be viewed as a good thing.

"'Course not, dumbass," he said, Steve glared at him, "I listened. There was a lot of people in and out of that lab, chatting all kinds of shit. Surprising how much you pick up, when nobody thinks you're listening." He grinned again, wolfish, too sharp to be happy. Steve had been wondering where he'd picked up such an extensive list of curse words. "That and the TV set one of the night guards snuck in that he thought no one knew about."

"Right," Steve nodded, looked down to trail his fingers absently through the cooling water, eyes on the blurred purple scales under the surface. "You must have been up there a long time. Y'know, to get to so good at it."

"I guess," he said, "it was cold when the bastards got me, and now it's a bit warmer. Like barely though, does it ever fucking get warm here?" Steve didn't give him an answer, and he didn't wait for one. "A few months, maybe."

"Shit."

"Hey, don't you go feeling sorry for me," he said gruffly, "I don't want it. And I didn't have it as bad as some of the others."

"Others? There were more of you?"

"Yeah, there was a whole bunch of us they prodded around, from all over the place. I was one of the first," he said, with a grim sort of pride, "there was only one guy before me. Adam. Gave us all names, had a big list of 'em stuck on the wall. They'd cross one out every time one of us..." he trailed off, swallowed, and looked angrily at the spotless tiles Steve's mom had had replaced last month. His mouth was was pressed into a tight, thin line, like he regretted spilling everything to Steve and wanted to take it all back again, make him un-hear it. 

"I - " Steve didn't know what to say, never was good at talking about the serious stuff. "I'm really sorry man."

"Don't," he said sharply, snapped his head up to look at Steve again, glaring and teeth bared.

"Okay," Steve said quietly. "What - what did they call you?"

"Billy." About the furthest thing away from a mermaid name Steve could possibly have imagined, but it kinda suited him all the same. 

"Guess they were going for an alphabet thing with you guys, huh?"

"What?"

"Doesn't matter. I'm Steve." They watched each other for a moment, the bathroom silent except for the faint sound of water on the sides of the tub, the surface painting wavering lines of light all up Billy's chest and neck, the walls and the ceiling. "You escaped then." Billy nodded. "How?" 

He shrugged, stayed sullenly close-lipped.

"I'm guessing they didn't know you can switch between legs and tail?"

Still nothing.

"Fine," Steve said, slumped a little more heavily against the side of the tub, couldn't help but gently flick a little water at him again. Billy wrinkled his nose. "Don't tell me, whatever. But you know I can't help you if you don't - "

A loud and persistent knock at the door interrupted him.

"Shit," Steve's eyes shot to the bathroom door, like he was expecting it to suddenly slam open of its own accord, "I said I'd watch Dustin this afternoon." Dustin was a grown ass kid, who was perfectly fine by himself for a few hours and in reality probably did a better job at looking after himself than Steve did. But they enjoyed hanging out now and then, so neither of them said anything about it. 

"What?"

"Shit," he said again as he stood up, scooped up his jeans where he'd dumped them on the floor, suddenly very aware of his lack of clothing, and held the towel a little tighter. "Just stay up here, okay?"

"Why?"

"He can't find out about you yet." Steve pointed a finger at him, felt like a bit of an idiot for it. He didn't really have a solid reason for not telling Dustin right away, but he felt caught out and uncomfortable, and like it really wasn't a good idea to go spreading it around before he had more of a plan. "Here, use any of these you want," he shoved the basket of soaps and bath stuff closer to the tub, "knock yourself out."

"Aw, you don't want him to meet little old me?" Billy drawled, back into smug asshole mode apparently, now Steve was the one thrown off course, and rested his elbow on the side of the tub.

Steve looked at him flatly. "No I do not."

"Charming."

"Look, just stay up here until I come get you?" Steve said, painfully aware of how desperate he sounded, already halfway out the door. "Please?"

"Fine," Billy rolled back into the water, "if you're going to keep bitching about it."

"Thank you," Steve said, and stomped off down the hall to get dressed. Typical really, that of all the goddamn mermaids that apparently existed, it was Steve's bad luck that he got stuck with that rude prick wallowing around in his mom's bathtub.

~~~

The kicker was that Steve actually did enjoy hanging out with Dustin, not that he liked to tell him that too often; he didn't want it to go to his head. For a solid few hours, the pair of them sat around Steve's living room, watching cartoon reruns and chatting shit until it was almost dark out. The kid was so good a distraction that Steve actually forgot about the mermaid lingering upstairs and probably poking through all his stuff for a while too, which was kind of nice. And he might have gotten away with it altogether, if Dustin hadn't gone out to the kitchen to get another soda.

"Uh, Steve?" Dustin's uncertain shout carried through the hallway.

"What?" Steve hollered back, reluctant to get up. He was comfy, he wasn't going to move just because Dustin couldn't find the goddamn Dr Pepper. Again.

"Why's there a naked guy in your freezer?"

Shit. Steve had never moved so fast in his life, and that included his years spent on the school basketball and track teams. Stupid thing was, he'd known from the start he'd have to tell the others about Billy, especially if the lab really was back to its old bullshit - or new bullshit, whatever - but he'd kind of been hoping for a little more time to get his thoughts about it all straightened out first. To sound like he had some kind of plan beforehand. And as selfish as it sounded, he'd sort of liked being the only one in the know; he felt necessary. Once he told the others, they'd be fussing all over Billy trying to help him out and put things right like the good people they were, and Steve would be pushed to the sidelines again, no longer needed once he'd played his small part in things. Which sounded really fucking dumb and bratty, he knew that, but he liked feeling like he had a purpose.  
He sped into the kitchen so fast he almost skidded right over, and was greeted with the sight of Dustin gaping across the room, where Billy was bent over rummaging through the freezer again. He wasn't actually naked, thank God, and had deigned to put the shorts back on after the bath.

"Thought I told you to stay upstairs," he said, trying not to look too hard at the dimples at the small of his back, the barest glint of scales on his skin, the curve where his butt stretched the thin fabric of the shorts. Which was so not cool; he'd just escaped from the lab and Steve was meant to be helping him, keeping him safe or whatever, not staring at his ass. Crap.

"Bite me," came Billy's reply from the depths of the freezer. Yeah, that was pretty effective at cooling Steve off some. Dick. 

"Is he your friend?" Dustin pressed as Billy emerged, triumphantly holding the half empty carton of strawberry ice cream. "How come I've never seen him here before?"

"Uh, he's from California?" Steve said, fumbling for a cover story that he'd known he should have planned out earlier and was now kicking himself for. He couldn't lie for shit. "He just got into town."

"Then how come you never talked about him? Seriously, who is this guy?" Dustin asked again. "Is he - " his eyes widened, and Steve could practically see him jumping to the wrong conclusions. "Are you like _dating_ or something?"

"What?" he heard Billy snort while he grabbed a spoon for the ice cream. "No we are not dating, Jesus." 

"Because that would totally be okay you know," Dustin kept right on running his mouth, "Lucas has this cousin - "

"Oh my God Dustin, shut the fuck up."

"What?" Dustin said, indignant, like _Steve_ was the one being difficult. Why did people always look at him like that? "Son of a bitch Steve, I'm just trying to be supportive, there's no need to snap."

"Well, thanks," he said, "but that's really not it, okay."

Billy walked past them, remainder of the ice cream tucked tight under his arm, and ducked to give Steve's butt a firm pat as he stalked out of the kitchen. Steve yelped and swatted at him. He missed, because of course he did, and his face got all hot again. Dick. 

"Yeah, that's really proving your point there buddy," said Dustin dryly.

"It's really, really not like that," Steve insisted, "he's just an ass."

"Okay. Then what is it like?"

"Look," Steve said, knowing Dustin, and knowing he wouldn't drop it until he got something interesting enough to warrant keeping his mouth shut, "the others can't know about him, okay?"

"What?" He scrunched up his nose. "Why?"

"He's not quite..." Steve couldn't help but look towards the window, like there might be some douchebag from the lab listening in, "human. Okay, now you know, so we can drop it, right?"

"What? No way, Steve. You can't tell me that then refuse to say anymore, asshole!"

"Uh, yeah I can."

Dustin's face set with smug determination, like he knew he'd already won. "I need more information if you want to buy my silence, Harrington."

"God you suck, Henderson, anybody ever tell you that?" Steve sighed, pushed his hair out of his face again, "fine, but you gotta swear you won't tell."

"Swear," he said immediately, on the edge of his fucking metaphorical seat.

"He gets a tail when you dunk him in water." There. Short and to the point.

"...What kind?"

"What kind of - a fish tail, you idiot," Steve said. "Y'know, like a mermaid?"

"Like in Splash?"

"Splash?" There were occasions Steve completely lost track of the point Dustin was making, and that was one of them.

"You know, that movie with the mermaid?"

"Dustin, what - " he tried not to fucking lose it, "no I never saw it." 

"Well, this is exactly the same thing." 

"Yeah, I doubt that."

"I'll admit there's a few key differences," Dustin said knowledgably, "but still. It's pretty cool."

"Sure."

"Hey, does this mean you're Tom Hanks?"

"What?"

"Never mind," said Dustin quickly, leant forward to watch the empty doorway like Billy might just wander back through in all his scaly glory. Which wouldn't happen because there was no goddamn water. "This is heavy."

"I know," Steve said. "I'll tell the others tomorrow, I promise. Just... I wanna take the night to get my head together, okay?" Dustin had seen him at a low point once or twice, and must have remembered it, because he bit his lip and nodded, before grinning at him all big and toothy. 

"I got your back, buddy."

"Spit shake?"

"Ew, no Dustin, I'm not touching your spit, man."

"Whatever," Dustin wiped is hand off on his jeans. "Hey, do you think he'll show me? I've got a few questions about the mechanics."

 _Definitely not,_ Steve thought. "Ask him if you want," he said. "It's your funeral."

~~~

Dustin didn't work up the balls to ask Billy about his tail in the end, thank fuck, and after another half an hour or so of watching TV and giving him some serious side eye, it was time for Dustin to go home. Steve offered to drive him since it was starting to get dark out, but he declined, gave Billy another curious look and said in an undertone that maybe it wasn't safe to leave him unattended. Billy threw the empty ice cream carton at him. Steve definitely didn't laugh.

They stayed there a long while after Dustin left, Billy seemingly engrossed in the TV, Steve half watching it and half watching him. Well, apart from a brief bathroom break. Explaining that had been a riot, though he hadn't thought until afterwards that Billy'd probably been messing with him. Now he was sprawled at the opposite end of the couch again - the thing was big enough they could both sit comfortably without touching - one leg draped over the arm and ice cream spoon still hanging lazy between his fingers as he watched the screen. The little patches of scales had stayed the rich blue purple they'd turned in the warm bathwater, scattered along the thick muscles of his legs, paler along his ankles and inner thighs, glittered at his throat like jewellery. How Dustin hadn't noticed them earlier, Steve had no idea. Was probably too preoccupied with the rest of the scene Billy'd created in the kitchen. Whatever, he was really fucking grateful Billy'd seemed content to keep the basketball shorts on. His hair was dry now, soft, curled and fluffier after him playing about with Steve's shampoo, made gold by the dim glow of his mom's ugly table lamps. His eyelashes cast shadows down his cheeks, and he absently chewed on his lower lip as he watched TV, dragging it in and out between his teeth. Steve shifted where he sat. Billy was really fucking pretty, which struck him as a weird thing to think - he'd long been wondering if he liked boys the same way he liked girls, so that wasn't much of a shock - only because the guys his eye had caught on before he never would have dreamed of calling pretty. He really needed to to stop eyeing him up like that though; it was a dick move after all the shit he guessed Billy'd been through, it wouldn't help him any to have Steve staring at his goddamn chest all the time.

"Pretty?" Billy said, turned his head slowly to smirk at him, and Steve realised he must have said some of that out loud. Shit. 

"Uh yeah," Steve said, feeling that traitorous flush creep up his neck again, "it means - "

"I know what it means asshole, I'm from the ocean, I'm not stupid."

"Right. Sorry." He'd gotten him all flustered again.

"Besides," Billy said, eyes heavy-lidded and looking Steve up and down like he knew exactly what he was doing to him, the dick, "if anyone's the pretty boy here, it's you."

Before Steve could answer, a loud bang went off somewhere in the street. Steve felt his breath catch and clog in his throat, was half out of his seat in a flash and trying to remember if he'd left the bat in the trunk or not. But then he heard the cursing of Mr Thomas who lived across the street, and remembered his junkpile of a car that was always giving him trouble. He slumped back onto the couch, trying not to feel like too much of an idiot. It was dark out and he had a habit of seeing things in the shadows, and it had been a long and fucking weird day, he'd let himself off for being a bit twitchy.

"Uh, sorry about that," he looked up to apologise to Billy and hopefully play off his weird reaction to a fucking car backfire as nothing, rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. But Billy's attention was still fixed on the dark outside the window, and didn't seem to have heard him. He was tense all over, jaw clenched, eyes big, barely breathing. Steve put a hand on his shoulder, but Billy flinched away, looking at him in horror. 

"Hey," Steve said softly, moved his hand away, "it's okay man. It was just a car backfiring."

"Hm," Billy blinked, visibly pushed his fear aside and instead looked annoyed by Steve's attempt to play it down, snarled at him and curled away. "Yeah, well I've seen some shit alright, excuse me for being a little jumpy."

"I've seen some shit too," Steve said, already kicking himself for the response he'd probably get for his trouble, "and it's alright to be a little freaked out about it, okay. I'm not saying its a good thing," he added hastily when Billy looked about ready to bite his head off again, "just that... well, it happens. Can't help it, y'know?" 

"Sure," Billy said quietly, watching him closely, eyes narrowed. "What shit have you seen then, huh?" Still sharp, prickly, obviously annoyed with himself for letting Steve see him so thrown off, so vulnerable. "I mean, this all looks pretty cosy to me."

Steve was about to be mad at him again, until he realised Billy was probably trying to deflect. It was hard to figure him out after such a short time, but it seemed to Steve like he loved attention, until it was focused on something real, and painful. His eye caught on the bruises on Billy's arms he guessed were left behind from the lab's tests, faint and yellowed, but there. "I'll explain in the morning," he said, "I promise." Seemed like he'd be doing a lot of talking tomorrow. "I'm just - I'm too fucking tired to go into it right now."

"Fine," Billy huffed, rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the couch. But he still kept looking at the window, rubbing at his bruised arms without realising he was doing it. 

"I'm... going to have to tell my friends about you," Steve said carefully, half expecting Billy to fly off the handle. He was hard to predict. He'd chosen to tell Steve about himself for whatever reason, but that didn't mean he wanted a whole bunch of other people to know too. "They know a bit about the lab," he said, and wasn't that the underplay of the century, "they might be able to help you. Get your friends busted out of there, or whatever. Get you home." 

"Steve - "

"I understand you probably don't want everyone knowing your business, but I can't help you on my own, man, I - "

_"Steve."_

"What?"

"I watched you, at the quarry. For days, I watched you park up, climb down and sit there by the water, all by yourself, all quiet and fucking miserable, and tried to figure out if I could trust you. I decided that I did," he shrugged, "and it's too late to take it back now. I trust you, happy?" It looked like it pained him to say it, but he'd said it all the same.

"Uh, thanks."

"Yeah yeah, don't let it go to your head, pretty boy," he said. "Not like I had a lot of other choices lined up."

He still looked all strung out though, and Steve remembered those times when he'd felt like something was going to grab him from the shadows, how grateful he would have been to have someone there with him during his bad nights after last November, and thought that might be what Billy needed too, even if he didn't want to ask for it. He stretched out an arm. "Come here."

Billy raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, no."

"Look I - " it was clear Billy hadn't liked being touched without his permission, which was fair enough after the lab prodding him about against his will and whatever other nasty shit they'd done. He'd probably be within his right to be mad at Steve for even suggesting it. "You don't have to, if you don't want. It just... it used to help me feel better, thought it might help you too."

"Wow, you say that to all the boys?" said Billy dryly.

"Don't be a dick, I'm just trying to help."

"Fuckin' weird way of helping if you ask me - "

"Fine," Steve withdrew his arm, "I'm not going to make you, Jesus."

"Well if you're going to get so worked up about it," Billy mumbled, and crawled across the couch to where Steve was sitting. He draped himself over him like a massive, grouchy cat, huffing as he got comfortable, before eventually relaxing in Steve's hold. "Not a fucking word."

"I didn't say anything." Steve was kind of regretting his offer. Billy's skin was smooth and hot against his, the damn basketball shorts thin as fuck, the weight of him pressed along Steve's body unfamiliar but so, so good. But he was a good fucking friend, so he put a lid on all that other crap and just let Billy cling to him a while, stroked his hair a bit. Billy complained about it, said he wasn't a fucking dog, but wouldn't let Steve stop.

Steve would have to tell the others tomorrow, like he'd promised. But for the moment, he was happy enough just the two of them, felt closer to the asshole he'd found in the quarry than he had anyone else for a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't decide if I wanted this to be funny or feelings, so it's a weird smush of both. Tom Hanks plays Daryl Hannah's love interest in Splash, in case you were wondering what that was about.
> 
> My tumblr is eatingmoonflowers, come talk to me about mermaid Billy if you want - I had so much fun with this dumb AU, apart from the typing it out four times thing. I might do a little more, we'll see.


End file.
